On The Way to Heaven
by modestroad
Summary: Regina must face an unknown enemy who has isolated her from everyone and everything she had begun to rely on and has taken Henry. On her own she must face her worst nightmare - will she survive or will this truly be the end of the Evil Queen?


**Post S3. Thanks to icequeen1955 and Stephanie for their amazing beta work.**

_Inhale and I want you to exhale. Inhale…now exhale. Follow your breath. Okay? 10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1_

_ ~~~~~~SQSQSQSQ~~~~~~_

She drains the last of her water, still watching the building on the other side of the road, the building with the number 31 in the front, and she still hasn't found a way in. And she has to get in. Henry's inside with them, with the Hood, and she's the only one who can save him.

Emma left her long ago when things got bad. She can't remember when things got so bad. Was it after the Hood or before? She shakes her head because it doesn't matter, not anymore. Emma didn't believe her and she was done trying to convince people. If Emma was fool enough not to see the threat the Hood was, the threat the Hood could be then…damn her and those two idiot parents of hers.

But she had seen the darkness inside the Hood, has seen the same darkness in her reflection for years, and knows she only has one option; find and kill the Hood. There's no middle ground here, no need for the Savior. The Hood has her son so she will take the Hood's heart even if she has to fight a whole army with her bare hands.

And she might have to.

She has no magic outside Storybrooke and she's not in Storybrooke anymore.

This place, this city, it reeks of death. All she could see on her way here were abandoned buildings and broken people with broken eyes. The whole city is broken with cracks everywhere; on the roads, on the faces of the buildings, on the faces of the people.

It's not dusk yet, not for another half an hour or so, but the tall buildings hide the sun, making the smallest of the shadows look terrible big and grim.

This is a place and situation she never wanted to find herself in.

She licks the moisture from her lips, safe in her car, doors locked, windows up, and wonders if Henry knows she's coming. He must know. He knew it in Neverland and he must know it now. He must know that she'll never let anything bad happen to him even if sometimes she still feels like she's the worst that could happen to her son.

And Henry, her sweet little man, who has pinned all of his hopes and dreams to his mothers, is now held prisoner behind these walls. Henry, the only one who believed her about the Hood, but wasn't lucky enough to make his other mother believe in him, not again, not after Neverland.

She smiles despite herself. If Emma had to learn one thing by now it is never lose faith. But the Sheriff was raised in a world where faith is for the fools and weak at heart, for those who can't fight back. Not even Snow White and Prince Charming could make the blonde change her mind.

Emma left one stormy Wednesday thirteen weeks ago, leaving Regina and Henry behind, making them an easy target for the Hood. Henry had fought. He had fought hard and long, until his throat was raw from screaming his lungs out. Regina fought too, until she had not a single ounce of magic in her body. Until she felt her body weaken and her head spin and then…nothing.

She woke up in the hospital to the sounds of someone crying.

And here she is now, in a city forgotten by everyone, even the Gods, except the few poor souls that still live here, with no son, no Emma and no powers.

She feels weak. Her head feels weird like the first weeks after they returned from Neverland; it feels as if someone left the radio on a white noise station and she can't change or close it. Dr. Whale had warned her when she signed the papers to leave the hospital days after she was brought in. He had said that a feeling of weakness and confusion was to be expected and she hasn't been sleeping well since that day.

Not since Emma left and she hates herself for it. She should hate the blonde, but she can't. If she wants to be honest Emma had put up with enough of her bullshit. Perhaps if she had tried to make things a little easier for the Sheriff, Emma would be sitting next to her instead of having dinner with Neal and her parents back at Storybrooke.

She has to accept that Emma won't help her this time.

She has to save Henry herself.

And that's exactly what she's going to do.

Once she finds the courage to step out of the car.

~~~~~~SQSQSQSQ~~~~~~

Up in the roof, despite the cold and the wind, the Hood stands unmoving, looking down and doesn't acknowledge the boy standing not ten feet behind. There is an old, brown SUV parked on the other side of the street and the driver is sitting inside.

"Is that her?" The boy asks and comes closer to the edge, where he has a better view of the street.

The Hood nods and points to the boy to go inside.

The boy, Henry, starts to head to the door when he stops and turns. He opens his mouth to say something, shakes his head because he doesn't know what to say only that perhaps he should say something, before he turns again and disappears inside, the Hood watching him all the while.

When the door closes behind the lean body of the boy, the Hood turns his attention back on the road.

~~~~~~SQSQSQSQ~~~~~~

"Do something," Regina whispers to herself. "Do something right now."

But she's safe in the car and not ready to get her son back. Not without a plan and she's out of her element here. But the car is safe, comfortable, with earthy colors, a wooden dash and leather seats. It smells of pine tree and wet dog, and junk food that stayed in the car for far too long.

With a sigh, she steps out of the car and immediately makes sure that the zip of her tan leather jacket is all the way up; she should have put her coat. The wind hits her from all directions and hurts her eyes. There have been a warning about a thunderstorm but she was so sure that it wouldn't hit so far north and, once again, had been wrong.

For a second she thinks of getting back inside the warmth of the car and wait until the morning, but she doesn't want Henry to spend another minute with these people; she doesn't want him to spend another second away from her, away from home.

"You don't want to mess with the lot of them," she hears a voice despite the wind and is taken aback because she thought she was the only one foolish enough to be out in this weather.

She turns her head around, but sees nothing. "Hello?" Her voice is unsure, almost scared.

Isn't it ironic for the Evil Queen to be scared?

"The people inside that building," the voice says again but this time Regina can see a woman climbing the stairs from a basement apartment. She's, well, not that old, but moves slowly, a hand never leaving the wall and when she comes in view Regina sees that the woman is blind. "They are bad news."

"They have my son."

The woman reaches the last step and Regina takes notice of her appearance. She's older that Regina thought and while her clothes were expensive that was a long time ago. She wears them with elegancy and, perhaps because of her condition, every item she's wearing is black except one little detail; a small apple pin over her heart.

"You should come for a cup of tea. Wait inside until the storm is over."

"I need to find Henry. I need to find my son."

The woman comes closer and is as if Regina didn't speak. "A nice warm cup of tea is what you need. Come inside, I don't mind the company. Come and first thing tomorrow we will call the cops."

There is something about the woman's voice that almost makes Regina say yes. A warm cup of tea would be delightful and a shelter from the cold; all that she needs.

"Leave the gal alone, would you?"

Regina jumps; she could swear she was the only one on the street minutes ago. This time the voice belongs to a man. Not very tall and not very short. Average; on the thin side. He's dressed in white except his crocodile shoes and black cane. He doesn't walk with a limp so the cane is part of his outfit than something he needs.

"I'm just trying to help," the woman says and Regina turns her head to look at her because her voice lacks the compassion she had seconds ago; her face, like her voice, is cold, jaw hard, lips a thin line.

"She's looking for her son," the man says and gives Regina a thousand volt smile."What she needs is a little something to help her not a cup of tea."

She frowns; a little something to help her?

"Do you?" The man asks and takes something from his right pocket, looks around for something, before he opens his hand, showing a small bag with four or five white pills. "Do you need some help?"

_When had her life became a scene of an early Tarantino movie?_

"I just want my son."

The man smiles, his attention now to the blind woman, his expression one of 'I told you so', but the woman can't see him and even if she could, Regina doubts that she would care.

"Her son, you hear that?" He laughs then, a strange and unpleasant sound that sends child down her spine. "All she wants is her son."

The woman shakes her head and walks, slowly, back inside and the man with the fake smile and crocodile shoes, stares at her with eyes that makes her feel uncomfortable, like he somehow knows all of her crimes and has decided she's not worthy of his time anymore.

She turns away, looks at the building, at the empty street, at his clothes, anywhere but his eyes, when she spots his apple tie pin and he must have followed her gaze because he laughs with the same horrible laugh.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"We were a couple, a long time ago. Didn't quite go as I thought it would go." And he sounds sincere when he says that. "And now, well, all we have now are memories of a life we would have."

She's not sure how to make of that so she just turns her attention back to the building and says, "I should go."

"To find and take your son back."

"Yes."

"Tell me," his eyes turn cold and the wind that minutes ago had calmed down starts a new assault to their bodies, still, not as cold as his eyes are. "Why are you so sure that your son wants to come back to you?"

Before she has a chance to respond, the man mock salutes her, turns his back on her, and she watches as he walks down the street, whistling tunes he only knows.

And the night hasn't even started yet.


End file.
